Omniflick Farewell: Leonard Nimoy (1931-2015)

Just wanted to say goodbye to someone who played one of my favorite characters in T.V. and film. As a Trekkie, I would be remiss if I didn't say a little something about Leonard Nimoy. I always found his voice to be pleasing to the ear and really liked how much humor he brought to the role of the stubbornly stoic Mr. Spock.

Coincidentally, I watched Star Trek: The Motion Picture a week ago and must say my favorite scene is Spock's arrival on board the Enterprise.

I grew up watching the original series in syndication, the Saturday morning cartoon and all the films. I guess it's safe to say my life would have been the poorer without Mr. Spock (and Leonard Nimoy).

He will be sorely missed.

Focus

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Glen Ficarra and John Requa/Starring: Will Smith, Margot Robbie, Rodrigo Santoro and Gerald McRaney

I've never been a fan of Will Smith, so I was less than enthusiastic about seeing Focus, directors Glen Ficarra (I Love You Phillip Morris) and John Requa's new film that is mainly about the world of cons but is as much about the sex appeal of its two leads. The trailer didn't exactly wow movie-goers and I must say it left me feeling impatient and bored. But if Focus isn't particularly riveting cinema, it's hardly disposable. It has its redemptive attributes and though it isn't difficult to see the story's sleight of hand and anticipate its direction, it still manages to have fun getting to its destination and for once, I didn't recoil from Smith's presence onscreen.

With every film about cons, we're asked as an audience to determine who is conning who and how much of what we see is some sort of elaborate put-on. Focus asks us to do more of the same but like every film of its ilk, the visual landscape must be stocked with charming and attractive confidence men and women. Will Smith and Margot Robbie fill the bill nicely.

Smith plays Nicky, a professional con man with a team that traffics in every sort rip-off scheme, big and small; from pick-pocketing to ATM scams to identity and credit card theft. Like all cons, they aren't hampered by crises of conscience about what they do.

Nicky's team targets major sporting events where crowds are sure to gather, like the Super Bowl and college bowl games.

When we first see Nicky, he is appraising the sexy Jess (Margot Robbie) in a hotel bar. After conversation leads to a bedroom tryst, Nicky finds that he is the target of a would-be scam when a man purporting to be Jess' husband bursts into the room with a gun. When the gunman fails to frighten Nicky, the con is laid bare. Nicky, further wounding the small-time con's wounded egos, offers them pointers on how to properly carry out the con they failed to perpetrate.

Not long after, Jess approaches Nicky and learns of his professional life as a con. Taking Jess under his wing, he introduces her to his team and even shows her his temporary New Orleans headquarters, where merchandise, money and valuables, pilfered from the unsuspecting, rest.

A series of scenes follows where Jess participates in elaborate pickpocketing and credit card thefts which are a little too neat and flawlessly executed.

A romance blossoms between the two cons, in spite of Nicky's reluctance to bring Jess into the fold.

After Nicky informs his team of their successful take, which exceeds one million dollars, he invites Jess to the Super Bowl in New Orleans; giving her a taste of the lush life his business brings. Intoxicated by the luxury seats Nicky has secured, the two casually watch the game and the crowd. The two begin casually making bets on fan tendencies and when a wealthy Asian man sitting nearby asks to join the betting, the monetary stakes begin to climb. At this point, we know Nicky has had a troubled gambling past, which adds some tension to the scene. When Jess tries to stop Nicky from making making larger bets, he is egged on by the Asian man's taunts. As he continues to lose the double or nothing bets, the prize grows to one million, which causes Jess more than just a little anxiety. As Nicky makes an enormous, last stand bet, we discover a highly elaborate con in play. How it plays out reveals something about the degree to which Nicky will pursue an intricately crafted con. It also says something about how the film virulently petitions the audience to overlook logic and plausibility. Though it is an exciting sequence, it is also quite improbable. Why would Nicky and the Asian gambler be carrying bags of cash on them at the Super Bowl? Wouldn't bags arouse security's suspicion? And what about the con itself? Would Nicky and his crew have such superhuman faith in a con involving subliminal messages; whose success is hardly guaranteed? And would they be willing to risk losing a million dollars to earn more? It is worth mentioning that the convoluted plan involves one of Nicky's crew standing on the sidelines in a uniform, which seems laughably absurd. But somehow we're coaxed along and if the sequence seems too fantastic to swallow, it also manages to be entertaining.

Nicky, feeling some kind of guilt for dragging Jess into his world, decides to part company with her. Crestfallen, he leaves her with a substantial chunk of cash before saying goodbye.

The story picks up three years later as we find Nicky in Argentina. He is now a part of a Formula One Racing pit crew. Why he would end up in such an unlikely place is slowly teased out in the plot. We learn he is part of a con that involves selling a highly coveted but bogus device that is supposed to give driver's an edge over their competition. Nicky is in the employ of a wealthy man named Garriga (Rodrigo Santoro); an avid race fan who hopes to con a competitor into spending big dollars on the useless copy of his device. The con, in part, involves Nicky staging a fight with Garriga's pit crew boss at a party he is throwing; a deception that is supposed to draw the attention of Garriga's target. But after Nicky arrives for the party, he is shocked to see Jess romancing Garriga, which arouses his jealous ire. Nicky manages to re-kindle the relationship with the resistant Jess. Not long after, Nicky double crosses Garriga by selling his device to all the opposing racing teams. As Nicky and Jess try to escape, they are captured by one of Garriga's henchmen. Tied up, the two await execution in a warehouse. Of course we learn that Nicky's rekindling of the romance was part of a larger deception conceived to steal a password for Garriga's encrypted computer files, which contains information about his wonder device. But it also becomes known that Jess herself was working Garriga and we're meant to be titillated by the multiple double crossings that are an imperative in all con films.

Why Argentina and Formula One racing? I suppose filmmakers wanted an exotic locale for the second half of the film but why racing? Why would that appeal to a con man? It doesn't make sense but I guess the audience isn't meant to quibble about where a con finds his or her marks.

In spite of the plot hokum, the movie still held me captive. Part of the film's appeal is the chemistry between Smith and Robbie. Inter-racial romances are rare in Hollywood films so the relationship was something different and refreshing.

I can't say the character of Nicky challenged Smith much. That he be suave and cool were the lone demands of his performance though a back-story dealing with his grifter father was an attempt at depth. Jess' wardrobe and Robbie's acting seem to be on loan from her character in The Wolf of Wall Street. It's uncanny how few differences separate the two characters. Robbie even sounds like her character in Scorcese's film.

If you look too closely, nothing in Focus makes much sense and if it had a believable moment, then it probably escaped my notice. But in spite of impossible odds, I enjoyed the movie anyway. It doesn't take itself too seriously and it knows not to sell its whopper of a plot too hard. The romanticized life of a grifter: big money, beautiful women and the potential for danger is the draw here, not air-tight, unassailable, plot-twisting storytelling. Nevertheless, directors Ficarra and Requa know how to keep their story one-step from the abyss of the ludicrous.

Focus is fun. It is a last-weekend-in-February diversion before the more-stimulating March fare arrives. It is adequate for now but it may wither in the early morning light of March 1st. We'll see.

Oscar Telecast 2015

The blogosphere will be deluged today with everyone's thoughts on the Oscar telecast so why offer more commentary? Like we need more, right? So let me indulge myself anyway.

I'm not qualified to comment on couture so I'll stick to the show itself, which never seems to please anyone. Everyone offers their two cents on how to fix what most believe to be an excessively long show, but many tune in year after year whether the show is a winner or a dud. I must say I'm sick of hearing the grousing about the telecast. If it really bores, then don't watch; it's as simple as that. For as long as movies are relevant, the Oscars will always be eye-rolling experiences, so why bother griping?

But as Oscar telecasts go, I must say this was one of the worst in this century. I thought Seth MacFarlane's Oscar night was the worst of the lot until I watched last night's telecast. I think Neil Patrick Harris' turn as host will rank as low and for many reasons.

There seems to be a consensus about how good Harris is as an awards show host. His Tony Award hosting has been the talk of the entertainment world for some years so he would seem to be an obvious choice to host the Oscars, right? Well, last night left me wondering; does the Tony audience have lower standards or was last night an aberration for Harris?

I thought the show got off to a rousing start. I liked the opening song number, especially when Anna Kendrick joined Harris onstage. It got better when Jack Black, sitting in the audience, began singing as well, while taking some pokes at Hollywood's excesses in the process. I thought, great, if the rest of the show has the opening number's inspiration and humor, the evening should be a blast. Wrong. The rest of the telecast never matched the opening number's spirit.

I can't imagine anyone wanting to host the Oscars. It takes a special talent to keep a 3 and a half hour show moving along. Billy Crystal was almost incomparable in this regard. So, in some ways, I must not be too critical of any Host or Hostess' performance. But I have to also say that I think the Oscars are better with a comedian or comedienne as host or hostess. Harris lacks a comedian's ability to make a scripted joke seem off the cuff. He also lacks a comedian/comedienne's talent for making gags work.

Another gag that should have been amusing but came off as a desperate attempt at outlandish humor was Harris walking out on stage in his underwear. Somehow the stunt seemed tired; like he was clutching at comedy straws.

His Oscar prediction box, which he returned to all through the evening, wasn't clever or funny and it lacked a pay-off. And it didn't help that the contents were revealed near the end of the show (of course, when else could they be revealed?) when everyone (myself included) wanted the telecast to hurry to its exciting conclusion.

A gag he borrowed from Ellen DeGeneres; walking the aisles, went nowhere, especially when he stopped to ask Steve Carell what actor he would most like to meet. During the exchange, a long, awkward and strange pause ensued, which brought a quick death to what was supposed to be something improvisational.

Harris did take a few well-deserved jabs at the Academy for its lack of cultural sensitivity but too often he made jokes at inappropriate times and worse, ones that were mildly amusing at best.

One thing that's been a bother in the Oscar telecasts for years is how time is capriciously allotted to award recipients on stage. I can understand the winners in major categories not getting piped off stage but what about the Best Foreign Film recipient, Pawel Pawlikowski, who couldn't get another 10-15 seconds to offer extended thanks?

I liked Lady Gaga's tribute to The Sound of Music; songs she sang beautifully and the heartfelt embrace of Julie Andrews afterward. It was the one moment in the entire telecast that paid any kind of tribute to a film from the past. This has become a trend in recent years, where Hollywood film history is given short shrift.

The songs nominated didn't impress me, nor did the performances of said songs; even John Legend and Common were only mildly watchable.

The speeches were okay. But though I was pleased to see Patricia Arquette win Best Supporting Actress for Boyhood, her magic moment was marred by what I call Actor's Cause Syndrome, where the actor or actress can't merely offer thanks but must plug pet causes. It's one thing when an actor mentions the persistence of some physical affliction or world problem related to the subject their film addresses, such as Julianne Moore discussing Alzheimer's in her acceptance speech, but it's an entirely different thing when Arquette uses her moment to make a statement about several causes that had nothing to do with her role in Boyhood. Given the sad fact that Arquette will most likely never be on the Oscar stage again to receive an award (before Boyhood, I hadn't seen her in a movie in literally years), could she not not seize the moment to celebrate her acting achievement? After all, awards don't come around often, even for the most celebrated actors and actresses. And who can remember the causes anyway? I have trouble enough remembering the winners. Actors should learn something from legendary screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky, who once scolded Vanessa Redgrave for turning the Oscar dais into a soapbox by saying (on the Oscar stage) "I would like to suggest to Miss Redgrave that her winning an Academy Award is not a pivotal moment in history, does not require a proclamation and a simple "Thank you" would have sufficed."

The distribution of awards seemed to be proceed as I expected. I didn't have a problem with Birdman walking away with some of the top honors, including Best Picture and Director. Inarritu's film was outstanding and entirely deserving. I also had no problem with J.K. Simmons winning Best Supporting Actor. He distinguished himself for years as a character actor, so a win in an acting category was gratifying to see. I gasped when Eddie Redmayne beat out who I thought were superior performers but he does seem like a charming, unassuming fellow and one day he'll no doubt make me forget his performance in The Theory of Everything. But I'll say the award should have gone to Michael Keaton. I'm also pleased Julianne Moore won; I would have been disgusted had Rosamund Pike won for Gone Girl or Felicity Jones for The Theory of Everything. I wish Foxcatcher had won one of the acting categories but I think it's safe to say the film scared the hell out of movie-goers and the Academy alike.

I still think Interstellar, A Most Violent Year and Foxcatcher should have been nominated in the Best Picture category but fair is rare.

So Harris gave it the old college try but I can't say I want to see him back next year or any year after. Maybe the Oscars should try someone more unpredictable and dangerous, like Sarah Silverman.

Whatever or whomever, one thing that will never change is our capacity to gripe about the telecast. Let's face it, if the telecast were ever scrapped, the nation--and some portion of the world-- would be up in arms. So let it be dull or a disaster...it gives us all something to bitch about the next morning.

McFarland, USA

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Niki Caro/Starring: Kevin Costner, Maria Bello, Carlos Pratts, Morgan Saylor, Johnny Ortiz, Hector Duran, Rafael Martinez, Ramiro Rodriguez and Diana Maria Riva

Director Niki Caro, best known for her film Whale Rider, is back with McFarland, USA. Whether the film can be called Caro's or Disney's is a question not easily answered.

The film does have Disney written all over it. In recent years, the company has assumed ownership of the weepy sports-movie genre and has done well with it. Last year's Million Dollar Arm fell into this category and proved to be quite entertaining. I can say the same for Caro's film, which, like last year's Disney sports flick, also features minority athletes overcoming reduced economic status, racism and their own lack of cultural self-esteem to not only succeed but excel. Both films are also based on real people and events and though tethered to reality, they also share the Disney sports film formulae that even an accomplished director like Caro can't overcome or evade. Somehow that isn't necessarily a bad thing. Though much of McFarland USA is highly predictable (in spite of being a true story), it manages to be charming and entertaining.

Of course it helps to have an actor with Kevin Costner's charisma and sports film credibility. Costner, who just turned 60 in January, is still a powerful and welcome presence in films; even in a factory product like this late-winter movie offering. It also doesn't hurt to have Maria Bello; an actress who always seems real and can make the most of even the wispiest of roles.

Set in 1987, Costner plays real-life Jim White, a football coach who has been dismissed from several high school coaching jobs due to differences with administrators and colleagues. His latest transgression involves throwing a shoe at a player during a halftime pep talk after the individual dissed White repeatedly. The incident leads to his dismissal from his job and the uprooting of his family; a situation they find too familiar and too exasperating.

White, his wife Cheryl (Maria Bello) and his two daughters; Julie (Morgan Saylor) and Jamie (Elsie Fisher), find themselves in the small farming community of McFarland, California. When they arrive, they see the population is made up of mainly Mexican-Americans. They also find their home is a shabby place in a shabby neighborhood where poverty is the norm.

Put off a little at first with their new digs and surroundings, the family decides to venture out for dinner; settling on a taco place where the menu is something to which they are unaccustomed. When the family leaves the restaurant after dinner, they see a column of low-riders approaching, which immediately sets them on edge. When one of the riders accosts the family, another rider intervenes, thus averting a confrontation. In time, White learns he may have misconstrued the incident. Feeling unwelcome in the town, the family barely suppress their eagerness to leave.

White's new coaching position is also fraught with discord as he and the incumbent head coach butt heads. An incident involving White preventing a concussed player from entering a game sets him at odds with the head coach and becomes another threat to White's troubled career.

Unhappy with his position as coach and faced with the possibility of uprooting his family again, White finds he has few options.

While observing his student's running prowess, particularly one named Thomas Valles (Carlos Pratt), White conceives the idea of forming a school cross country team in spite of never having coached the sport.

Granted approval to start a team, White finds the sport a tough sell to the students he hopes to recruit. The fact that most rise as early as 4 a.m. to work in the fields then attend school during the day, only to return to the fields after school, presents a major obstacle. He eventually forms a team--made up of all Mexican-Americans--who are all a little skeptical of White's venture. Though eager to pursue his goal, White recognizes the plight of the families in the farming community and how their condition keeps them bound to the fields, making it difficult for them to to free themselves from an inextricable economic holding pattern. To help remedy the problem, he hands out SAT booklets to his athletes, emphasizing their potential to attend college.

It becomes fairly clear where this story will lead. We know White and his family will embrace the local culture and become part of the community; even sharing some of its rituals. And of course we know what will happen with the cross-country team.

I give Disney credit for exploring the culture of the community and the families themselves. We see Valles' family contends with a fatherless home and they, like many other families in McFarland, have family members who have been in and out of jail, whose sad proximity to the school is a sobering fact.

Of course what Disney film would ignore its sacrosanct view of family? We see the critical role of family in the community but White comes to learn something about his own obligations to his wife and daughters when he forgets the cake for Julie's 15th birthday party. To make amends, he enlists the help of townsfolk and borrows one of their rites of passage to fete the occasion.

But the focus of the film is White's team and how they emerge from nothingness to become a state power, which is great fun to watch, especially since it is real.
Adding a wrinkle to the drama is the offer White receives to coach at an upscale school in Palo Alto after his team begins to ascend the ranks of the state's elite cross-country teams.

As I mentioned earlier, I liked the movie. It doesn't make any profound, artistic statement but it entertains. If that seems like a rickety rack on which to rest one's coat, then consider the other multiplex offerings of late. If McFarland, USA traffics in cliches, it also does so with considerable heart and it tells it with a relatively modest $17 million dollar budget. 50 Shades of Grey was a snoozer at more than twice that and refuse like Jupiter Ascending couldn't even approach mediocrity with a $175 million dollar price-tag.

There aren't many surprises in the film but you may not care. It tells a story worth telling and one that says something about a place one wouldn't expect to find in a country with the world's leading economy; somewhere where even a minimum wage job seems like a fantasy. I hope McFarland's fortunes have changed significantly since 1987. I'm glad a corporate behemoth like Disney has the guts to tell such a story.

New Zealander Niki Caro has proven she has a deft touch with cultures not her own. Her Whale Rider focused on the Maori culture and in North Country, she addressed the sociopolitical climate of a working class community in Minnesota. Here again she shows sensitivity and insight into another culture.

I left the theater feeling quite satisfied. I wasn't in the presence of masterful cinema but I was entertained, which in the much-maligned Season of Swill, constitutes a small miracle.

Last Days in Vietnam

Director: Rory Kennedy

The debacle known as the Vietnam War seems so distant now, as if that time were more myth than history. Director Rory Kennedy's Oscar nominated documentary Last Days in Vietnam is a forceful reminder that the past isn't an abstract, fuzzy fantasy.

And given our government's vile habit of meddling in other nation's political affairs, (our misguided, empty-headed and ill-advised invasion of Iraq is a recent example) Kennedy's film shows us a lesson that should have been learned and digested back in 1975.

It makes sense that Kennedy, niece to John F. Kennedy; the man partially responsible for our involvement in south-east Asia, would take on a subject that weighs heavily on the Vietnamese and the American conscience. In doing so, she tells a story of how we betrayed the South Vietnamese people in their most desperate days and how, in spite of prodigious efforts to evacuate those seeking refuge from the North Vietnamese, many were left behind to face imprisonment, "re-education" and possibly execution.

Mixing copious news and film footage with personal accounts of American military and civilian personnel and Vietnamese evacuees (including some unfortunates who were left behind), a compelling and ultimately infuriating chronicle coalesces.

The Paris Peace talks, where Secretary of State Henry Kissinger helped broker a honorable withdrawal of American forces in Vietnam, marks the beginning of the film. We learn that much of what was agreed upon by the North Vietnamese and American diplomats was nebulous at best. But one proviso of the negotiations was the promise of South Vietnam's sovereignty. After Nixon ordered the withdrawal of American troops from Vietnamese soil in 1973, the North respected the terms of the talks; that is, until Nixon left office ignominiously after the Watergate scandal. As the film is keen to point out, North Vietnam was emboldened by Nixon's resignation, which helped initiate its invasion of South Vietnam.

Talking heads point out that the North invaded incrementally; testing the U.S. government's willingness to intervene militarily. When it became abundantly clear the U.S. wouldn't re-commit troops to the defense of the South, the North began its rapid sweep. Woefully under-supplied and crippled by its weakened resolve, the South Vietnamese army found it couldn't resist the North's ferocious and aggressive push. And when it became evident the South was lost, the evacuation of the remaining American troops and embassy personnel became a frightening reality.

The meat of Kennedy's film are the events between January and May 1975, when the evacuation of Saigon began in earnest.

Kennedy's film sheds light on the politics of the time, as Henry Kissinger himself gives us the Washington insider's perspective. We learn something about Graham Martin, the U.S. Ambassador to South Vietnam and his policy regarding evacuation, which betrayed a stunning disregard for reality. Unable or unwilling to accept America's flight from South Vietnamese soil, Martin dithered as the North Vietnamese Army continued its advance.

We also hear from many South Vietnamese; now American citizens, as they discuss their fear and anxiety of the government's imminent collapse and their frenzied attempts to gain access to the American Embassy compound, where Chinook helicopters carried evacuees to American naval vessels off the Vietnamese coast. The footage of teeming crowds trying to gain access to the compound and rushing Chinook ramps is disquieting.

And as former personnel talk movingly of the chaos that reigned over the evacuations and share their own experiences, the story becomes more tragic and harrowing. It becomes clear many Vietnamese will be left behind, while a few Marines recall how they too were almost abandoned as the North Vietnamese army entered Saigon.

Kennedy balances the footage and interviews nicely; giving us a complete picture of the time and people affected by the experience. It is heartbreaking to listen to one Vietnamese man talk about he and others were denied transport and his subsequent incarceration at an re-education camp. He ultimately escaped in 1979 and is now residing in America, as are many of the Vietnamese interviewed in the film.

Though the subject matter is fascinating and sad, I'm not sure I found Kennedy's film to be masterful. It is well-told and the stories and pictures are marshaled well but I've seen better documentaries this past year. Nevertheless, it is an important film about an important time in America's history.

The fact that this story can be re-told and still leave the viewer feeling an array of emotions ranging from disgust to remorse says something about Kennedy's film.

Watching Vietnamese pushing against the Embassy walls, hoping for an escape that will be denied many, is the culmination of a chain of events leading back to America's first blind and impetuous intervention in Vietnam. A Portugese proverb says there is nothing worse than a fool with initiative. That also might sum up America's time in Vietnam. Kennedy lets us know we can never be reminded too often of that unfortunate fact.

50 Shades of Grey

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Sam Taylor-Johnson/Starring: Dakota Johnson, Jamie Dornan, Eloise Mumford, Jennifer Ehle and Marcia Gay Harden

At long last, Hollywood has made a pseudo-erotic movie for the Hobbit/Hunger Games demographics; one that's sure to offend no-one, even Muslim jihadists. Minor pre-release hysteria gripped parts of the the world, where Malaysia and Kenya banned the film, though after watching it, I find myself furrowing my brow in puzzlement. I can't imagine even a randy teenager would be titillated by such a timid, mechanically-plotted slog that makes your average, interminable wait at the DMV seem like a Bacchanalian orgy.

E.L. James novel, an international sensation (though I have yet to meet anyone who has read the book-or will admit to it), has sold over a 100 million copies. I have no idea what the book is like, but if the print version is anything like the potent soporific director Sam Taylor-Johnson's film adaptation has proven to be, then I'll politely pass on it and devote my finite time on Earth to reading something more engaging.

It almost seems pointless to synopsize the story but what the heck. Dakota Johnson plays Anastasia Steele; an English literature major at Washington State, who agrees to fill in for her ill roommate Kate (Eloise Mumford) to interview the young, telecommunications titan Christian Grey for the school paper.

When she arrives at Grey's building, we see that her dowdy get-up contrasts sharply with the Gestapo-like, sartorially-precise female staff, with their tight pony-tails and creaseless, no-nonsense business skirts.

Anastasia's first contact with Christian begins with a tumble (too contrived) when she first enters his office. Even worse is the interview that follows. Even though we're supposed to recognize the immediate attraction between them, it is more suggested than depicted. A bland exchange follows which is supposed to give us a hint about Christian's dominant personality when he says "I exercise control in all things, Miss Steele." One would hope for a little more darkness and menace from someone who will later reveal his outre taste in foreplay but Christian mostly comes off as an uptight CEO rather a person with secrets.

In days following their initial meeting, Anastasia finds her mind preoccupied with everything Christian as the two begin volleying e-mails.

Christian begins to shower gifts on Anastasia, like rare, first edition books and helicopter rides and as what seems like a Cinderella-romance burgeons and intensifies, she learns he has no interest in a conventional relationship. And in what is supposed to be a pivotal moment in the film and in the relationship, he shares his putative, dark secret; his passion for sado-masochistic sex (though for Christian, it's more the Sado part). His taste in controlled, violent sex is supposed to consistent with his need to control people.

Let's face it, the real reason anyone is interested in the film and these characters is Christian's sexual chamber of horrors, which aren't horrors at all but just a room full of S&M appurtenances and a bed. To director Taylor-Johnson and screenwriter Kelly Marcel's credit, Anastasia doesn't recoil in fear and revulsion at the sight of whips and ropes; instead, she shows a healthy curiosity. But the mystery and the hint of danger the moment needs is sorely lacking. For all the scene's tepidness, he may as well be showing Anastasia his Lord of the Rings figurines. Maybe Taylor-Johnson wanted the scene to play that way; to make Christian's secret seem mundane, but that plays as boring onscreen. I was hoping (unrealistically so) for a moment more like the secret society scenes in Eyes Wide Shut; something forbidden, or at least something to give us a jolt.

But it isn't Christian's sexual interests that trouble Anastasia; it's his need to control her whole life and to be a presence in it at all times of the day.
When Anastasia informs Christian that she is to visit her mother in Georgia on the day following a party he's thrown at his place (strange that she would wait until the day before to share such an important fact with him), he surprises--and annoys her--when he flies out to see them.

Frustrated with the lack of normality in the relationship, Anastasia tries to fathom the reasons behind his need to control. His zeal is such that he even asks her to sign a document--a contract of sorts--agreeing to be his submissive, to which she agrees, albeit with misgivings.

In exploring Christian's psychological make-up, the story (and the character itself) stumble into eye-rolling silliness. Though the fact that Christian was abused as a child (which explains the mysterious scars on his torso) might reasonably account for his desire to control, it is too pat a psychological explanation for his lifestyle. The explanation also stigmatizes it inadvertently. I was hoping for something less explicitly stated or more original than what seems like a psychological default setting in films.

When Christian and Anastasia finally partake of the pleasures of his secret room, it all plays exactly as one might expect. There is nudity, though it is all bashfully filmed (shots of private parts are discreetly avoided--mostly). For a film that is supposed to be so erotically charged, it never strays beyond diffidence. Instead of being a story about the transition from innocence to experience and all the complicated psychological demands that come with it, the film is more about just getting naked and being tied up a bit. And though it is supposed to be the film's major selling point, the nudity we see is hopelessly confused with eroticism. That distinction is key.

Eventually, Anastasia tires of Christian's refusal to engage in the even the most minor aspects of relationship-building and even what's supposed to be steamy sex doesn't help. Though Christian tells Anastasia at one point that she is changing him, we never see any evidence to substantiate his claim. He remains stubbornly devoted to control and his character becomes a one note, discordant hum. Anastasia isn't much better. After being introduced to the more mysterious, exotic side of human sexuality and personal control, it's only impact on her is revealed as a need for self-determination. That's fine, but will she carry any trace of the S&M experience in her psyche? We don't know; her own personality and psychology remain as thin as a nickel.

The casting choices have long been criticized and the complaints are valid. Were Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan the best the casting director could do? I'm sure every young A-List actor and actress in Hollywood shied away from what they probably felt might send their careers into cardiac arrest. I don't blame them. But maybe the actors shouldn't shoulder all the blame. The script and story cry out for provocation and risk. But Dornan and Johnson bring too much plainness to the table. And what of Jennifer Ehle and Marcia Gay Harden? I don't know, their respective characters demanded that they be smiling mommies, nothing more.

Two years ago, the erotic French film Blue is the Warmest Color won the top prize at Cannes and garnered lofty, critical praise. It earned it. The French aren't so tentative about sex and the fascination of relationship psychology. Blue was ferociously sexy, passionate, daring and it's no accident that the relationship it examined was rich and worthy of exploration. I thought a lot about Abdellatif Kechiche's film while watching 50 and believe me, Taylor-Johnson's film suffers in any comparison.

The film is such is an easy target, so what did I expect? To answer my semi-rhetorical question, not much...but as always, I hoped.

I was also hoping for a lot of unintentional laughs but it failed there as well. You may or not be interested to know I actually dozed during one of the film's sex scenes. So it goes.

SPECIAL NOTE TO PARENTS: If you were thinking about taking your Girl or Boy Scout troop to see the film, I won't dissuade you. The film certainly won't shock them. In fact, the film might serve as useful--and educational--instruction in the mechanics of human reproduction.*
But it's up to you to explain the whips and ropes.

*I'm only kidding; I won't be held accountable if you're dumb enough to take Boys and Girls Scouts to see the movie.

Al's Omniflick Becomes a Toddler!

Al's Omniflick celebrates it's first year in existence today. Thank you, whomever and wherever you are, for visiting my blog. I'm looking forward to another year of celebrating film.
Please allow me to wish my blog a Happy Birthday:

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Omniflick Twins: The One I Love and Honeymoon

**Spoiler Alert**

The One I Love/Director: Charlie McDowell/Starring: Mark Duplass, Elizabeth Moss and Ted Danson**Honeymoon: Director: Leigh Janiak/Starring: Rose Leslie and Harry Treadaway

I recently had the very good fortune to see two 2014 films at the local cinema that didn't get the attention--or the distribution--they really deserved. Both are terrific and coincidentally, they both deal with young couples in various stages of marriage. One couple's relationship (The One I Love) is in rapid free-fall while the other (Honeymoon), having only just begun, is threatened by an insidious alien entity. While the former is odd, surreal and sometimes humorously nuanced, the latter is terrifying, creepy and visceral.

And while both films have disparate messages about the state of marriage, one can easily conclude that both share cynical views about one of the world's oldest institutions. Both films also examine marriage through sci-fi-like stories; eschewing realism to tell compelling stories.

The One I Love opens with couple Ethan and Sophie (Mark Duplass and Elizabeth Moss, respectively) sitting before marriage therapist (Ted Danson). Their marriage has hit the skids and in an attempt to rehabilitate it, the therapist suggests they spend some time at a country retreat, which has had positive therapeutic effects on other couples having marital difficulties. Ethan and Sophie accept the therapist's offer and after arriving at said getaway, they find it to be quite charming. As they settle into the retreat, they find the place also features a guest house, of which they avail themselves of shortly thereafter.

But in the days following, Ethan and Sophie begin to notice strange goings on. They find doppelgangers of themselves on the premises. And fThe couple discovers that the their doubles can only occupy one house at time, individually, depending on whether Ethan or Sophie happen to be in said house.

As the situation becomes more bizarre, Ethan and Sophie find their alternate selves are their idealized selves or their better selves at one time in their marriage. Sophie finds the alternate Ethan to be more humorous and fun-loving and begins to prefer him to the "real" Ethan, who is more than unhappy with the situation. Unfortunately for Ethan, he finds Sophie's Other to be a little too accommodating, though some aspects of her eagerness to please, like preparing bacon his wife would normally refuse him, appeals greatly to him.

As time at the retreat passes, discord between Ethan and Sophie continues until it becomes clear that she prefers Ethan's alternate while he would like nothing more than to stay with his wife and work out the more troublesome failings in their marriage.

In the end, a clever, O. Henry-esque ending settles their marriage crisis in an almost perversely humorous way.
The One I Love is director Charlie McDowell's (son of actor Malcolm McDowell) film debut and he demonstrates exceptional skill, keeping what is essentially a chamber-piece moving nicely and coaxing terrific performances from his small cast. Though both actors handle the material beautifully, Elizbeth Moss is particularly good; leaving one wondering why she hasn't successfully made the transition from T.V. to film.

What perspective do McDowell and first-feature screenwriter Justin Lader have on marriage, or at least Ethan and Sophie's relationship? Their message may be that couples have an irrational need for immutability in their relationships; an insistence their significant others remain the same and unchanged. It is Ethan that seems more rational about the realities of marriage, as his willingness to maintain his troubled marriage, with its myriad shortcomings is preferable to taking up with a pleasant imposter. Sophie has no qualms about being with the Ethan double, which tells us that maybe men have more realistic expectations about marriage than women. This is hardly a sexist notion, just one that squares with reality.

Honeymoon has a decidedly different take on marriage; one that is cynical and maybe more feminist. Made by another first-time director, Leigh Janiak, the film makes its point in the horror genre and in a powerfully frightening manner.

Newly married young couple Paul (Harry Treadaway) and Bea (Rose Leslie) have chosen a cabin in the woods for their honeymoon escape. During their stay, they come upon a shabby restaurant near their cabin. The proprietor forcefully demands that they leave. Before the couple depart, Bea recognizes him as someone she's known from childhood. From the way she greets him, we're able to glean that some kind of romance or crush was involved, which irks Paul and sets the couple briefly at odds. But more ominous is the man's distraught wife, who warns them away from the place. The woman's strange behavior, leads Bea and Paul to conjecture about spousal abuse.

Back at their cabin, all is relatively well until Paul notices Bea's strange, absent-minded breakfast preparations (Breakfast figures prominently in both films, I guess), where she forgets to add coffee to the hot water and how to make french toast. This follows a strange, nighttime episode where Paul finds Bea has somnambulated in the forest.

The honeymoon begins to fall apart when Bea begins to show signs of not being herself and Paul finds strange wounds on her inner thighs, which she vehemently tries to hide from her husband. Paul also begins to notice strange lights shining through the bedroom window. Though Paul begins to suspect the man Bea once knew, it becomes increasingly clear to the audience that she has made contact with an extraterrestrial intelligence; one that means to inhabit her body and visit unpleasantness on Paul. How the remainder of the story unfolds is mildly disturbing but riveting.

Like Charlie McDowell, Leigh Janiak shows a precocious, directorial flair for interpreting the story with precocious expertise. And she shows she can scare the wits out of an audience; foregoing gore for psychological and atmospheric dread. As impressive are the performances. UK actors Treadaway and Bea intensify the story with whiz-bang performances. It is to Janiak's credit that she is able to craft such a spellbinding film with a relatively miniscule budget.

It is interesting to note that the woman Bea and Paul met in the restaurant also becomes a victim of the alien entities. Why the women were specifically targeted is never divulged but serves as interesting symbolism. The fact the men both become expendable says something about Janiak's take on marriage. Where The One I Love addresses the notion of expectations, Honeymoon says something about female empowerment in the 21st century. The timeworn convention that a woman must have a man for self-validation is metaphorically of disposed here.

The films would make a fascinating double bill, if such screenings still played on contemporary screens. It is too bad both films didn't get more attention. The One I Love and Honeymoon would have certainly made my favorite films of 2014 list had I been able to see them in theaters last year.

Keep your eyes on Charlie McDowell and Leigh Janiak; if film companies can pull their respective heads out of their respective fannies, they might better promote their next films. Since I can't suggest that one see the films at the local theater, I recommend catching them on Netflix.

Honeymoon
The One I Love

'71

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Yann Demange/Starring: Jack O'Connell, Sam Reid, Sean Harris, Martin McCann, Killian Scott, Charlie Murphy and Barry Keoghan

Yann Demange makes his directorial debut with '71; a tough, harrowing, brutal and sometimes nail-biting drama that takes place in war-torn Belfast in 1971. Demange and screenwriter Gregory Burke weave a byzantine plot where allegiances are sometimes ambiguous and agendas murky as the combustible atmosphere of Protestant and Catholic Ireland is made more so with the presence of British troops.

Jack O'Connell (served with a better script and director than the Unbroken debacle), plays new British army recruit Gary Hook, whose unit is assigned duty in the troubled streets of Belfast. Innocent and untested, Hook learns he is to participate in dangerous house searches and to weigh further on his unfortunate assignment, the operation is to take place in the most soldier-unfriendly neighborhood; an area known to be an IRA stronghold.

It also doesn't help that his commanding officer; a greenhorn in his own right, eschews riot gear in favor of less threatening berets.

Joining the troops in their operation is a Protestant police force, who pursue their objectives with a more brutal modus operandi and a three-man, shadowy, plainclothes unit who conduct their own clandestine warfare on the Catholic population.

Demange effectively sets a mood of tension as the pounding drumbeat in the score keeps the audience on edge.

As we watch Hook sit at the rear of the truck transporting his unit, we see the anxiety and fear in his face. When the troops disembark, they watch a group of kids target the unit with vegetables and garbage. The soldiers take it all in stride and laugh as one kid exposes his bare bottom. But the situation darkens, for the women in the neighborhood begin banging trashcan lids on the sidewalk to alert everyone to the troops presence. And what began in a somewhat humorous manner with mooning kids quickly becomes an agitated scene as a shouting crowd approaches the soldiers; quickly becoming belligerent. As the police unit threatens a family with violence for supposedly keeping weapons in their apartment, Hook's commanding officer orders him to assist in the house search but instead finds himself the object of a police officer's angry scorn.

When he returns to the street, he finds the mob has already started punching and kicking at the soldiers and pelting them with stones. When a kid captures a downed soldier's rifle, he sprints away from the mob. Hook gives chase and is followed by a comrade for support. But the situation suddenly becomes ugly and frightening as the two men suddenly find themselves surrounded and savagely beaten. Worse still, the two soldiers are abandoned by their comrades when their unit drives back to base. When a woman humanely intervenes in the assault, a young tough, Paul Haggerty (Martin McCann, from the Oscar Nominated short Boogaloo and Graham) accosts the two soldiers; shooting Hook's friend in the head, killing him instantly. Before Hook suffers the same fate, he runs from the gun-wielding tough, while others join the chase. After desperately eluding his predators, he manages to find a temporary hiding place but in doing so, he also finds himself alone in hostile territory.

The film maintains a heightened sense of fear as numerous parties; some benign, others not at all, take an interest to Hook's status. And as Hook tries to make his way back to his unit, the story becomes a web of conflicts and warring parties with opposing agendas. Internal strife and a power struggle leave an IRA cell at odds with their leader while the plainclothes military operatives prove to be a complicated group as well, as their contempt for the soldiers is commensurate to their disdain for their IRA enemies.

And as Hook finds himself in the unlikeliest of places. he often finds his alleged enemies--Irish-Catholic residents--aren't beyond compassion--sometimes at the risk of endangering themselves. I don't know that I've ever seen a film about the conflict in Northern Ireland that was sympathetic to both sides. We see that kindness isn't peculiar to one side or the other. But we see that malevolence is also a multilateral trait; the plainclothesmen and the group of vicious, IRA youths serve as the darker elements of the conflict.

Demange, for being a freshmen feature-maker, already shows a remarkable instinct for suspense; keeping all narrative threads tight and exciting.

I particularly liked O'Connell's performance as the beleaguered Hook, as well as Sean Harris as the chilling Captain Sandy Browning; whose mere gaze is enough to unnerve the viewer. Killian Scott and Martin McCann are also terrific--and scary--as the leaders of the rogue IRA faction who hunt Hook with single-minded fury.

I've grown accustomed to seeing one-sided narratives about the Irish struggle; films like The Wind That Shakes the Barley, In the Name of the Father, Hunger and Michael Collins often portray the British (not without just cause) as unyielding, single-minded antagonists. '71 is a refreshing departure from what's come before.

It's also welcome relief from the mediocre sludge of the season.

The Oscar Nominated Short Films 2015: Live Action

**Spoiler Alert**


Parveneh--Directors: Talkhon Hamzavi and Stefan Eichenberger/Switzerland
Parveneh is a story about a teenage Afghan girl living illegally in Switzerland whose efforts to send money home leads her down a path that is both revelatory and sometimes troubling. It's amazing how much we learn about her life in such a brief time. We see her being exploited by an unconscionable employer, but her life among fellow, self-exiled Middle-Easterners is hardly better.

When she enlists the help of a teenage Swiss girl to send money to her family in Afghanistan, the process becomes a cultural, eye-opening experience.

I liked the film but found the ending a little too neat. Nisha Kashani's performance as Parveneh is touching and her pretty, youthful face lends much to her character's innocence.

Given the recent tragedy in France with the murder of Charlie Hebdo satirists by Muslim extremists, it is a relief to see a more optimistic story about a Muslim and European finding harmonious, common cause rather than conflict. It is also interesting to note the two characters in the film are both female, which adds a sociopolitical dimension to the story.

Butter Lamp (La Lampe au Beurre de Yak)--Directors: Hu Wei and Julien Féret/France and China
What directors Hu Wei and Julien Feret manage to convey with a static camera is astonishing. A film that is touching, subtly humorous and ultimately sobering, I must say Butter Lamp was my favorite of the nominees.

We see Tibetans standing before scenic, photo-backdrops as they wait to be captured in portraits. The photographer moves about, in and out of the frame as he tries to orchestrate the shots. We don't realize at first that the backdrop of the Forbidden City in Beijing, replete with a picture of Chairman Mao, is actually artificial until another backdrop is unraveled in its place.

Along with backdrop changes are the subjects themselves; Tibetan families whose faces tell stories of their own.

The film has its humorous moments. When the photographer scrolls through a series of backdrops for an elderly Tibetan woman, an exotic beach scene unfolds, replete with palm trees. When a backdrop for Potala Palace in Lhasa is lowered in the background, the woman crouches before it in an act of worship and refuses to budge until the photographer and his assistant change the scenery.

And what reality lies behind the photographer's illusions? A great and sobering truth that speaks volumes about Tibet's past and maybe an unfortunate future.

I found Butter Lamp also made a powerful sociopolitical statement.
It also told its story in a very clever way. The photographer's camera is also the filmmaker's camera and what he sees, we see as well. Though the viewer sees beyond the literal subject matter to grasp the metaphors, the photographer most likely doesn't.

The Phone Call--Directors: Mat Kirkby and James Lucas/UK
A lonely woman who mans a crisis hotline phone, fields a call from a man in emotional anguish. As she executes call-center phone protocol, she learns he suffers from the loss of his wife; his dear companion for many years. In trying to ascertain whether he has actually taken steps to end his life, she learns something about his relationship with his wife. And in doing so, she herself is moved by his emotional plight; not only as a call-center volunteer but in a more personal way.

The ever-excellent Sally Hawkins plays the crisis center volunteer while Jim Broadbent lent his voice and talents as the man on the phone. Hawkins is quite terrific, as her performance rests entirely on her ability to to react to nothing more than a voice on the other end of the phone, which she accomplishes with wonderful artistry.

I thought the short was quite powerful until the final few minutes, when it veers into something more conventional. In spite of, the film manages to be riveting.

Aya--Directors: Oded Binnun and Mihal Brezis/Israel and France
Aya has the longest running time of the Oscar nominated shorts at nearly 40 minutes and in that self-allotted time, directors Binnun and Brezis' give us a thought-provoking piece; one that relies heavily on performances to propel the story.

We see a group of people anxiously awaiting a flight arrival in an Israeli airport. A man holding a sign asks another if he might hold his until he returns. Burdened with the extra sign, he finds he is unable to wait and asks a young woman if she might hold the sign until the man returns. She agrees and when the man whose name is written on the sign appears, she neglects to inform him (for reasons that become somewhat clear later) she isn't his driver.

Instead, she shares a sandwich with him then does the unexpected by leaving the airport with him. En route to their destination, the two engage in a conversation that will make an emotional impact on both.
The story raises many questions about its odd female protagonist and her perplexing, psychological motivations.

Sarah Adler is terrific as the title character while Ulrich Thomsen, veteran of Danish cinema, plays her Jerusalem-bound companion. Most of the film's running time is occupied by the two actors in the car, but they, like Sally Hawkins in The Phone Call are challenged by the spatial limitations of their environment, which they overcome with heartfelt performances.

Who is this woman who would spontaneously abandon her own airport connection to drive a stranger to Jerusalem? The film gives us some clue, which makes for an engaging adventure.

Boogaloo and Graham--Directors: Michael Lennox and Ronan Blaney/UK

Set in Northern Ireland in the 1970s', directors Michael Lennox and Ronan Blaney's whimsical film tells the story of two young boys whose erratically-employed father presents them with two baby chicks. The boys take an immediate shine to the birds, much to the dismay of their mother. The two even bestow the offbeat names Boogaloo and Graham on their pets.

As the chicks become chickens, their love for their pets runs contrary to their mother's estimation of the fowl, who would like nothing more than to see the birds resting on the dinner table. The boys and their father's struggle to deny them that grisly fate makes for an amusing and charming story but the filmmakers also manage to give the story a political context, as British soldiers patrol the Irish streets.

The film is enjoyable but a little too short and slight. It is the comic relief in an otherwise mostly serious group of nominees.

If I were to prognosticate, I'd say Aya will be the frontrunner for the Oscar. It is certainly deserving, but again, my favorite is the Butter Lamp.

It's always a good idea to keep one's eye on the directorial talent, we may see them graduate to feature films in the near future. Given their talents for rich storytelling and accomplished directing, it may be only a matter of time.

Jupiter Ascending

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Andy Wachowski and Lana Wachowski/Starring: Channing Tatum, Mila Kunis, Eddie Redmayne, Sean Bean and Maria Doyle Kennedy

I think the Wachowskis' would like to think of themselves as visionary filmmakers but with films like The Matrix, Cloud Atlas and now Jupiter Ascending serving as standouts in their shabby oeuvre, I think of them more as merchants of flash and trash; writer/directors who spend gobs on visuals but can't write a story that floats or characters with any more depth than a thimble. Their latest follows in that tradition and in spite of said visuals, it is nothing more than junk with a glossy coat of dazzling color.

I expect to see an actress with Mila Kunis' slight acting ability ham about in this mess, but we've just seen Channing Tatum and Eddie Redmayne in Oscar-nominated films, which leads me to ask; what gives, fellas? Did your bank accounts really need the padding?

I'll leave those rhetorical questions to focus on the movie at hand.

And boy, is this film a bore! Cluttered visuals, pointless, vapid action scenes and film frames crowded with bodies that utter ridiculously inane dialogue effectively characterize this movie. Good thing I didn't shell out $16 bucks for the 3D version.

The story, which is kind of hard to follow--not because of a labyrinthine brilliance but rather its busy incoherence--takes place on Earth and in space. The main character, Jupiter Jones (Mila Kunis); the daughter of an English astrophysicist and a Russian mother, earns her name at her birth, where a relative notes Jupiter's position in the night sky. But the name also owes something to her father's interest in astronomical phenomena. He spends much of his time gazing at the stars through his telescope until, for no reason the filmmakers or the characters can explain, Russian thugs break into their home, rob the premises and making off with his beloved telescope. When he tries to stop them, they put a bullet in him, thus ending his star-gazing past-time.

The family is subsequently reduced to cleaning homes to earn an ignominious living, as is Jupiter, who scrubs toilets without complaint.

But elsewhere in our galaxy, we find the family Abrasax; a royal family of considerable power and wealth who rule over their domain with arrogance and presumption. The leader is Balem Abrasax (Eddie Redmayne), the evil patriarch who violently deposed his own mother to secure the throne. Under his thumb are his siblings, Kalique (Tuppence Middleton) and Titus (Douglas Booth), whose lives and roles in the family are no more secure than that of their late mommy.

A large part of the Abrasax power resides in the substance they harvest from humans; one that provides longevity and almost eternal youth. Increasing their supply means controlling the source, namely Earth, which is the cause of many of family squabbles. Balem's plans for Earth involve exploiting its population, which means denuding the planet of any human life; a hostile, destructive agenda he has accomplished with scores of other planets.

And what does our heroine, Jupiter Jones, have to do with all this? Turns out she is the reincarnation of the murdered Abrasax matriarch though she doesn't know it, which naturally makes her the target of Balem's Machiavellian, murderous designs. Jupiter discovers her royal connection the hard way when bounty hunters are dispatched to Earth to cancel her life. But she also discovers that she has a guardian angel of sorts, a genetically-engineered soldier named Caine Wise (Channing Tatum, saddled with a dopey character name) who is trying to redeem his career after a disaster earlier in his career (I have to give the Wachowski's credit for making genetic-engineering of prime importance in the futuristic goings on in space).

Caine's military suit is equipped with hi-tech footwear with its own means of propulsion, which allows him incredible, surfer-like mobility. Caine fights off various baddies who have come to Earth to do Jupiter Jones harm while also trying to enlist the help of an angry former colleague who is residing on Earth named Stinger Apini (Sean Bean).

Are you getting all this? If you find my synopsis wanting or I've carelessly omitted some key plot points, please bear with me; I was trying to keep the story straight while fending off hellish boredom. It wasn't easy!

So the reader (and viewer) can see where all this will lead. Jupiter will try to regain the throne with Caine's help as they become romantically involved while Earth's future hangs in the balance and blah, blah, blah.

I've noticed a certain phenomenon has overcome big budget action spectacles the last ten years or so and it leads me to ask: How does Hollywood (and the Wachowskis') manage to put the audience to sleep with so much ear-splitting noise and carnage on the screen? My head was nearly hanging on my chest before being snapped awake while Channing Tatum surfed around and Mila Kunis fell from great heights and long shots of a planet smothered in orbital habitats and nonsensical flotsam littered the screen.

Needless to say I couldn't wait for it all to end.

The film chokes on its own silliness quotient and believe me, there is a lot of it. I don't know what the thinking was behind Channing Tatum's look, but he resembled a satyr dressed for a night of clubbing rather than a hard-nosed soldier. Mila Kunis' lack of wonder or incredulity just made her seem like a dumb Miss America contestant who can't think beyond her Maybelline. Of course she was cast for sex appeal and her ability to fit into snug, cosmic couture. If there was any real chemistry between Kunis and Tatum, it was squelched by all the commotion onscreen.

Eddie Redmayne was hilariously miscast but he gives it the old college try, though the curious, modulated voice he affects made him seem less threatening than Stephen Hawking.

If you're like me, you might have found the trailer very off-putting, with its brain-frying and intelligence-trying CGI. I hate to say the film is just more of the same, without respite or anything for the mind to feed on. I'm sure I'm overstating it, but this film is a vacuous waste of time.

I invite the Wachowskis' to see Interstellar if they want to know what entertaining, thought-provoking science fiction can be. If their goal was to make a dumbed-down space opera, then I guess they attained their creative goal.

Should I say more? Not necessary. I just hope the Wachowskis' refrain from turning this story into a saga. That would be criminal.

The Loft

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Erik Van Looy/Starring: Karl Urban, James Marsden, Wentworth Miller, Eric Stonestreet, Matthias Schoenaerts, Isabel Lucas and Rachael Taylor

The murder/mystery The Loft, which tells the story of five friends who find a murdered woman in the loft they co-own and share for extramarital trysts, is so overcrowded with red-herrings and inexplicable lapses in logic that by the final half-hour, one is overcome with exhaustion. And with that weary exasperation comes a powerful indifference to the characters and the outcome. The beginning isn't bad, the middle falters some then the end staggers into some sort of unsatisfying resolution.

Karl Urban (on leave from Star Trek, where he makes a terrific Dr. McCoy) plays Vincent Stevens, an architect of some renown who, with his other pals Chris (James Marsden), Luke (Wentworth Miller), Marty (Eric Stonestreet), and Phillip (Matthias Schoenaerts; how he suffered slum free-fall from the film Rust and Bone is anybody's guess), agree to share said loft in a building of his own design. The film views their philandering as a matter-of-fact, which is just how the friends view the loft. Vincent offers it as a safe alternative to potentially compromising hotel rooms. He presents each of his friends with a key, which comes with some basic loft rules; one is that each owner must alert the others when it is to be used and another is that its existence be kept from everyone not part of the circle.

The film begins with an interrogation, as some of the friends sit before detectives, reluctantly fielding questions. We discover soon after that a blonde woman lays bloody in the loft bed. Luke is the first to discover her and after a moment of shock, he quickly contacts the others. Before long, the friends are all gathered and looking askance at one another; leveling accusations and trying to decide on a course of action.
The woman's identity isn't immediately revealed, which is supposed to be a sly attempt to create suspense--and further the mystery.

The story backtracks a year (as these films tend to do) to give us a sense of how the friends became embroiled in such a mess.
We see the five men in attendance at Phillip's wedding. Phillip's wild, volatile nature makes him unlikely candidate for marriage but his personality will later incriminate him. The other men are not unlike Phillip; dudes with raging libidos, always prowling for members of the opposite sex.

Chris eyes a blonde bombshell named Anne (Rachael Taylor), who happens to be the lover of a prominent city official. Anne's blonde hair immediately qualifies her to be the dead woman on the bed or is it another red herring? The two begin a heated affair, and to complicate matters, he falls in love with her.

Their wives register as mostly dull shrews, particularly Chris' wife Allison (Rhona Mitra), whose humorless severity alone makes her a suspect. The only wife with any personality is Marty's, who seems to be more flesh and blood than the others.

A key sequence in the film involves Vincent, Luke and Marty as they meet in San Diego for fun and frolics. During a night out at a bar, Vincent meets his own blonde object of desire; a woman named Sarah (Isabel Lucas), which also leads to a torrid affair that will impact not only on his marriage but his friendships as well.

While the men argue in the present about what to do about the dead girl and whether to contact the police, one of them discovers a message written in blood on the bed stand; a Latin phrase that translates to "fate will unite us;" a cryptic message whose meaning eventually becomes clear.
The use of Latin is useful, plot-wise, for it serves as yet another red herring when Phillip's father-in-law just happens to use Latin casually in conversation. It is a coincidence that is too coincidental, which makes the diversionary tactic easily dismissible.

It eventually becomes known that Vincent was in the loft the day before the murder, which quickly positions him as the chief suspect though again, such a revelation would oversimplify the plot. We know the culprit's identity lay elsewhere.

The woman's identity is eventually made known to the group (and us), which should make it easy to assign guilt. But again, that would be too easy.
As the police question the friends and the corpse threatens to ruin their lives, it comes to light that Luke had been secretly taping the trysts; which naturally invites the wrath of the others. Though the footage of Vincent's visit should, in effect, solve the mystery, the plot conveniently calls for Luke to have not recorded the tryst. And why would a friend record his best friends' sexual adventures? That bit of expository business is revealed later, which will damn one of the friends and provide motivation for the retribution they eventually seek.

As the messiness begins to unravel, we come closer to a resolution as the the truth behind the mystery is laid bare. Though it comes as a surprise, it isn't a particularly interesting or all that plausible. It is merely one component in a narrative that is mechanically conceived and executed.

The denouement proves to be something of an anticlimax. My eyebrows started to feel heavy as the story began to drag on.

I didn't care enough about any of the characters to really care about the story, which in many ways is nonsensical. Van Looy fails to establish any kind of suspense nor does create situations that feel like the real world.

For men who are supposed to be educated, they behave in ways noone with even a small clump of brain matter would. While staring at the dead body, a few of the friends start messing with the crime scene though most people would have the good sense to leave it uncompromised. And why would anyone befriend such a vile human being like Marty, who wears his misogyny like a gaudy tie and who can't seem to open his mouth without something offensive spilling out? But then again, how many men in the story can be said to have redeeming virtues, or even one? It isn't an imperative that characters be likeable but how many of the characters in this film make for intriguing scoundrels? Many questions and yet, I wasn't interested enough to want to know the answers.

The Loft proves to be nothing more than a shoddily constructed mystery/thriller. A group of friends confronted with a dead woman isn't a new plot device. I was reminded of the equally inane film, Very Bad Things, where a celebration in Las Vegas leads to a woman's death. At least that film was played for laughs.

Maybe it's time to retire this threadbare, cliched premise.

The film will languish, no doubt in theaters until it surfaces on DVD or streaming in the not-too distant future. Unless you can't bear to not know how it all ends, I wouldn't wait around for it.

The Boy Next Door

**Spoiler Alert**
Recently, it came to light that North Korean hackers had broken into corporate computer files of Sony, which contained private, inter-office correspondence. The culprits targeted Executives and personnel in order to cause embarrassment and thwart the release of the film The Interview, which portrayed North Korean culture and more specifically, leader Kim Jong-un in a very unflattering light. More embarrassing for Sony were the internal, inter-office e-mails and memos that betrayed critical and often mildly insulting views of film industry figures.
Unknown to the general public, Universal Pictures was also the target of a separate and very recent cyber-break-in but for reasons unknown. And like Sony, UP executive memoranda and e-mail were also leaked to the media and the general public. But unlike its competitor, Universal was able to suppress the more humiliating and compromising messages; keeping potentially incriminating or humiliating information from coming to light.
Until now. Al's Omniflick has recently come into possession of some of said files (with the helpful intercession of Edward Snowden) and will post them forthwith.
It goes without saying that said information exposes this blog to legal retribution and will most likely invite the fury of the NSA. Let it be known that Al's Omniflick willingly risks such peril to bring you the following inter-office and executive/producer correspondence pertaining to the film The Boy Next Door; directed by Rob Cohen and starring Jennifer Lopez, Kristin Chenoweth, John Corbett, Ryan Guzman and Ian Nelson.

February, 6, 2014

RE: The Boy Next Door

Larry,

I think we need to give the movie the green-light. When my intern, Mary Towne (you know the type; brainy USC film school grad), pitched the premise, she envisioned the lead character of Claire Peterson as a "psychologically-intricate, Hitchcockian, every-woman who is the victim of the male ID. I think the e-mail I sent her emphasizing the need to make the character accessible and uncomplicated paid off (though she wasn't happy about it!)

Any word on who might play Claire?

Let me know,

Mitch

Mitch Mugglum
Project Development Director
Universal Pictures
UniMug@unipic.com

February 7, 2014

RE:Boy

Hey Mitch,

I hear you on the "Mary" thing. These liberal interns always get some ambitious hair in their fannies whenever they talk about character development. I think threatening to replace her did the trick. These chicks; where do they come from?

Anyway, regarding casting. We got what we asked for when I suggested--demanded--someone who looks great in a tight pencil skirt. I suggested Kim Kardashian but then an extraordinary thing happened; Jennifer Lopez agreed to co-produce and accept the lead role. I thought, wow; not only do we get someone who can fill a pencil skirt; we also get someone who has no problem playing someone so one-dimensional. In fact, the e-mail she sent me demanded that we eliminate any and all nuance pertaining to her character. She's such a sport! And all she asked of the director Rob Cohen is that he profile her butt often and that he not capture her lips without requisite gloss. I assured her it would be no problem. She's great, isn't she? None of that quibbling over characters being real people you might get with a Kate Winslet or Juliette Binoche. Thank goodness for uncomplicated characters!

Looking forward to this project and what you have to say.

Best,

Larry

Larry Dirchrake
Project Development Co-Director Universal Pictures
UniRake@unipic.com

February 15, 2014

RE:RE:Boy

Larry, sorry it's taken me a spell to return your message. I was too busy arranging a Valentine's Day/Welcome aboard diamond broach gift for Jen. I'm glad we have a discretionary budget for pampering stars. That pesky intern I mentioned had the gall to question the expense, asking why we didn't spend the money on production. Can you believe the cheek of this chick?! Spending $3,000 of the film's budget on a gift for someone with Jen's prodigious talents is a no-brainer.

I wanted to let you know I've seen the final script and have given it my seal of approval--as has Jen.

The plot is rather simple; a sexy divorcee (played by our Jen), who teaches high-school English, has recently parted ways with her husband Garrett (John Corbett--we couldn't find anyone else to take on a character another actor who read for the part called "a thankless but necessary role for anyone needing to make a mortgage payment." Don't worry, that actor is finished in this town!).

Their son, Kevin (to be played by Ian Nelson. Once again, a young punk reading for the role asked: "do I have to play the character like the spineless dweeb he appears to be on page?" Again, he too will never read for a part in this town again.)

So, as Claire and Kevin try to persevere in their husbandless/fatherless household, a handsome young stud named Noah Sandborn (Ryan Guzman--the annoying intern called his character "mentally enfeebled beefcake." Yeah, I know; she's gone when this product is in the can) moves in next door to help his aging, physically frail uncle. After he meets Kevin and Claire, he becomes a friend to the family; taking the under-confident Kevin under his wing. He even helps Kevin to approach one of the school's beauties to ask her to the dance.

Soon, Noah becomes part of Claire and Kevin's sphere. One night, while Claire is standing near her bedroom window, she catches the sight of Kevin nude through the window next door. Unable to turn her eyes away from the high school Adonis, he catches her watching him then encourages her voyeuristic impulses further.
As Kevin and Noah's friendship develops, Claire tries to move on from her failed marriage. After being encouraged to date by her best friend Vicky Lansing (Kristen Chenoweth--she was dying to play something that wasn't on Broadway, I'll bet), who also happens to be the the Assistant Principal at her school, Claire forges ahead. One particular date ends badly when the her companion expresses his disdain for Claire's attempts to teach students something impractical, like literature, which he regards as waste of time. Excusing herself from the date, she heads home to drown her disappointment in a bottle of wine.

Unbeknownst to Claire, her comings and goings have been monitored by the stud next door and after concocting a flimsy pretext to visit her next door, Claire reluctantly agrees. The two chat briefly then Noah makes a move on Claire. And though she tries to resist, her inebriated, vulnerable state impairs her judgement, making her susceptible to his seduction.

I guess I've gone on a bit. What do you think so far?

Mitch

Mitch Mugglum
Project Development Director
Universal Pictures
UniMug@unipic.com

February 16, 2014

RE:RE:RE:Boy

Mitch,

Thank you for sending me the script. Looks great! Sounds like a major hit. And so thought-provoking! Everything works for me but we need to make sure we see enough of Jen's body to draw the male demographic. I know she has nudity clause in her contract but she also wants to be sure her rump is given a cast credit, if you know what I mean.

You need to do something about that intern of yours; her incisive, logical comments are no help. She asked me why Claire has to wear lip-gloss in every scene and worse, she asked if Claire knows she could conceivably be classed as a sex offender if it became known she had sex with one of the students at her school. I'm fed up with these quibbles.

Sigh.

I found the Fatal-Attraction angle (hackneyed cliche, Mary says) to be fresh and fun. When Claire rebuffs Noah's further attempts to have sex, it is great that his psycho nature goes into overdrive. I particularly liked the scene where Claire steps into her classroom, only to find the printer is spitting out pictures of she and Noah having sex. The subsequent scene of Claire frantically gathering the pictures from the floor and wall while her class waits outside the classroom is amazing (not so, says Mary; who thinks it a weak attempt at suspense).

Meanwhile, Noah has also become Kevin's Svengali. He turns Kevin against his father and completes his tour-of-menace by targeting Garrett and Vicky Lansing for violent attacks.

Good job with the script. I can't wait to see it onscreen.

Best,

Larry

Larry Dirchrake
Project Development Co-Director Universal Pictures
UniRake@unipic.com

The intervening e-mail correspondence was lost. The thread picks up in January 2015.

January 23, 2015

Subject: The Boy Next Door!

Larry,

I think we can congratulate ourselves on a project well done. I can't wait to see the opening weekend receipts, which I'm sure will be gargantuan.

I was glad to rid myself of the intern Mary Towne. This release should teach her to second guess two film industry colossi like us. I found it funny that she wanted her name removed from the credits. Will do! Looking forward to hearing from you on Monday.

Until Monday,

Mitch

Mitch Mugglum
Project Development Director
Universal Pictures
UniMug@unipic.com

January 26, 2015

RE:The Boy Next Door

Mitch,

Well, the numbers aren't what we had hoped for and the critics (though I care little for their two-cents) found an occasion to unleash their dogs.

Some critics complained that the story offered no surprises whatsoever. They called the ending predictable and the story "the destitute man's Fatal Attraction." I thought the performances were straight out of London's Globe Theater but those damn critics disagreed. Their was almost a consensus on how serviceable Jennifer Lopez was and how Noah could have been played by any physical trainer with a tasteful coif. Very cruel critiques indeed. They don't know how hard we work to bring these films to the screen and how we strain our brains to come up with intellectually challenging material. And have you read the review by that smart-ass blogger at Al's Omniflick; the one who said that "if Jennifer Lopez can play a Literature teacher, then Vin Diesel should be cast as a Nobel Prize-winning Theoretical Physicist who teaches at M.I.T?" Can you believe that comment? He also dismissed the film as "something conceived by a committee of jackasses with impoverished imaginations." We should sue.

Needless to say, I'm very angry.

Larry

Larry Dirchrake
Project Development Co-Director Universal Pictures
UniRake@unipic.com

January 27, 2015

RE:RE:The Boy Next Door

Larry,

Never mind what a bunch of critics and some wise apple blogger has to say. Our movie will stand the test of time. Let's move on and count our earnings.

Hey, before I go, I wanted to comment on something you mentioned in your last e-mail. That Al's Omniflick annoyance may have inadvertently provided us a treatment for our next production.

Vin Diesel as a theoretical physicist...hmmmm. Let's run with it...

Mitch

Mitch Mugglum
Project Development Director
Universal Pictures
UniMug@unipic.com

NOTE: The preceding e-mail exchanges and this post are fictitious and satirical; as are the names and identities of Universal Pictures personnel. North Korean hackers never targeted Universal Pictures nor have any of the company's files been compromised(As far as I know).

Director: Rob Cohen/Starring: Jennifer Lopez, Kristin Chenoweth, John Corbett, Ryan Guzman and Ian Nelson